Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Zombie Short Story: The Road Trip - Part 4

[Welcome to my short story serial, "The Road Trip."  In this installment, Jeb and Myra think they may be able to trade some vegetables for merchandise.  But, they meet some customers who might have other ideas.  Of course, if you're new to the series, you might want to start at the beginning - Part 1.]

     Leaving the dead man dead in the road behind them, Jeb and Myra continued north on highway 41.  The cab of the old truck was silent and somber save for the clicking of Chevy's six-cylinder engine and the rustling of the wind in the windows.  After a few minutes, the couple began to see more houses, mobile homes,  small industrial buildings, a church, and a general store.  According to legend, El Dorado, is some kind of lost city of gold down in South America.  But, in the southern part of America, it's just an unincorporated rural community in Georgia.  If there was gold in our El Dorado, it's been gone for a long time.  For most visitors, it's a place for desperate folks to get off the highway, use the restroom,  gas up, and grab some sort of snack.

     Jeb also knew El Dorado was a place plenty of hard working folks called home.  He saw the aging El Dorado General Store on his left and pulled across the road into their sand and gravel parking lot.
     
     "Lotto, Food, Beer, and Wine," Jeb announced.  "I wonder if they'll want to trade for some fresh vegetables."
     "I wonder if they'll shoot you dead for walking into a convenience store with a gun?"  Myra replied smartly.
     "I think I'll be alright," Jeb said.  "They know me here."
     "I don't see any of those monsters so I better leave the rifle here in the truck."
     "Well, let's go in and see how they're doing."
     As Jeb opened the heavy steel and glass door, a string of jingle bells did their thing to announce his presence.  Jeb just poked his head in, and looked around.
      "How y'all doing?" he asked in a rather booming voice.
      A skinny older lady with salt and pepper hair and a million wrinkles peeked from around the register.  A long southern conversation ensued.  Her name was Darlene and it turned out that she once went to the same church as Jeb and Myra.  While they talked about zombies, they also covered every other possible topic.  It turned out that Darlene had a son in rehab for drug addiction.  Jeb and Myra would pray for his recovery.  Another of her sons was selling tractors down in Valdosta.  Her daughter was away at Agriculture school, but decided to join the Army and is over in Germany.  Her grandchildren were supposed to come for a few weeks in the summer.  Myra hoped they could come to vacation bible school.  They must have talked on and on for an hour.
     In ordinary circumstances, such a conversation would drive big city folks crazy.  But, in these times of crisis, the conversation merely provided time for lots and lots of big city zombies to walk right into the tiny Georgia settlement known as El Dorado.  In fact, when Jeb walked out to get the bushel of butter beans that he sold after all that conversation, he found he had plenty of company in the parking lot.  The state fair portalet and death smell alone would knocked most men over.
     To his left and about thirty feet away was the ghostly pale shell of a used car salesman from Warner-Robins.  Well groomed and athletic in life, his appearance in death was marred by deep cut across his face that exposed his skeletal jaw and left his cheek flapping across his car dealer polo shirt.  To his right, a very dead homeless woman in an overcoat was wandering around the periphery of the gas station lot.  Jeb could see the silhouettes of at least a dozen other zombies partially obscured by this truck.
      As Myra edged out the door behind him, Jeb motioned her back and said, "You better go inside."
      He unsnapped the holster top strap that secured his Ruger Blackhawk .357 Magnum.  It was an old school single-action revolver.  Whatever was going to happen next was going to happen just the way John Wayne would have done it.  Jeb decided Flapjack would be target number one.

[Thanks for reading!  Read on to see if Jeb can flip a flapjack!  Check out The Road Trip - Part 5]

Sunday, April 26, 2020

Zombie Short Story: The Road Trip - Part 3

[Welcome to my short story serial, "The Road Trip."  In this installment, Jeb is in quite a pickle.  But, if you're new to the series, you might want to start at the beginning - Part 1.]

     "Oh Lord," Jeb prayed aloud.  "Let me start this truck!"
     The old farmer pumped the gas twice, pulled the oversized steering-column-mounted shift lever back and up into first gear, depressed the clutch, and turned the key.  As the old straight-six turned over, he heard the dead man's hand slap the side of the truck.  As the engine roared to life, a gnarled claw-like hand reached in through the open window. 

1953 Chevy 3100 Pickup Truck
     This time Jeb had the presence of mind to ease the clutch up nice and slow while pressing on the gas.  The '53 Chevy truck accelerated away leaving the the zombie behind.
     "That was close," Jeb turned and said to wife.  "Myra!?"
     Myra's side of the bench was empty and the door was slightly ajar.  He was shocked.  Then he looked in the rear-view mirror in time to see his wife of forty years confronting the dead man eyeball-to-eyeball.
     As for Myra, from a distance of about fifteen feet she looked directly into the eyes of the dead man and the dead man looked right back at her for a moment.  It seemed like an eternity.  Myra wondered if she saw any hint of humanity in the dead man.  But, the dead man just moaned and took a step towards her.  It was his last step.
     Myra had her .30-30 carbine at the ready, brought it to her shoulder, focused only for a moment on the front sight, and squeezed the trigger.  In a bloody instant the dead man dropped to the ground.  Myra turned away from the ghastly sight and backed off the road.  When she looked up, the old Chevy 3100 was between her and the body.
     "Honey, are you okay?" Jeb asked.
      Myra was shaking and pale.  Jeb's voice was muffled to her as adrenaline raced through her body.
      "Myra baby," he asked again. "Are you going to be okay?"
      Jeb sat for a moment and said, "I was wondering where you went?"
     Myra took a deep breath, opened the door, and unsteadily guided the Marlin back into the gun rack.  Grabbing Jeb's outstretched hand, she climbed back into the truck.


     "I wasn't sure you'd get it into gear," Myra said. "I figured I better keep him from hitching a ride."
     "That three-on-a-tree manual is gonna be the death of me!"
     "The death of me too!"
     "Do you think we should stop and bury him?" Myra asked as they started back down the road.
     "No.  It's too dangerous," Jeb replied.  "There might be more like him out there."
     "Then let's say a prayer for that poor man's soul."
     Jeb pulled the truck over into the median and the couple bowed their heads. Jeb said a few somber words that were barely audible over the engine.  When their prayer was over, they got back on the two lane road that was Highway 41.
     "I think we'll definitely be making a pit stop in El Dorado," he said.
     "Yes," Myra replied. "I think we're both going to have to tinkle."
   
[Thanks for reading this zombie story.  You can continue on to read the next installment here:  The Road Trip (Part 4)]

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

Zombie Short Story: The Road Trip - Part 2

[This is the second part of my serialized series of short stories.  To start at the beginning of this series, read "The Road Trip-Part 1."]

    With a full load of vegetables and canned preserves, Jeb and Myra pulled out of their drive and started their journey to the north in their old Chevy pickup truck. 
   "How should we go?" Jeb asked.
   "If we take the highway," Myra replied.  "We'll get their faster."
   "If we take 41," Jeb said.  "We'll have more options if something happens and we can stop in some of the little general stores on the way up."
   "Then 41 is definitely the way to go."
   Driving gently, Jeb piloted the '53 Chevy across the nearby interstate overpass and hung a left to head north on Highway 41.  In this part of Georgia, it was merely a well-maintained and striped two-lane road.  Soon the truck was clicking along at a steady fifty miles per hour through rural Georgia on its trek to market.  Farm fields, an occasional house, and small stands of pines broke the monotony. It wouldn't be a long trip and it was a familiar route, but Myra sat mesmerized looking at the arrow straight road and the endless ribbon of railroad tracks to their right.

US Highway 41 in South Georgia (courtesy of Google Maps)
After a few minutes, Jeb started squinting and looking far down the blacktop.  A little ways ahead, a bearded man in an open blue denim shirt and jeans stood in the middle of the road.
    "Is that...what is that guy doing in the road?" he asked as he started to slow the truck.
    "I don't know," Myra replied.  "Do you think he needs help?"
    "I reckon we'll see what he wants," said as he pushed in the clutch and brought the truck to a stop alongside the man who stood alone in the opposite traffic lane.
     "Hey fella," Jeb hollered in a friendly but booming voice. "Do ya need any help?"
     The man turned revealing a two gaping chest wounds and a bloodly torn up ear.  A streak of dried reddish-brown blood soaked his denim work shirt, the tee shirt he wore underneath, and his pants all the way to the ground.  Jeb recoiled and practically jumped to the middle of the bench seat.  Even the old truck jumped as the Jeb inadvertently popped the clutch.  In its top gear, third, the old truck lurched ahead about 30-feet and completely stalled.
     As Jeb regained his seat, he could hear the dead man moan and see him growing larger in the rear view mirror.  His revolver was pinned awkwardly to his hip by the lap belt his kids had lovingly had installed.  His only choice was to start the truck.

<It looks like Jeb better get it gear or he's gonna be drooling and shuffling.  Read on in the next installment - Part 3!>

Monday, April 20, 2020

Zombie Limerick - Walking and Stalking

If ever you see a dead man who is walking
then you'll be glad that we spent this time talking
If you're without a handgun
very fast you should run
or forever the living you'll be stalking.

Photo by - Rodrigo Paredes from Ciudad Autónoma de Buenos Aires, Argentina / CC BY (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)


Sunday, April 19, 2020

Zombie Short Story: The Road Trip - Part 1

     Jeb was sweating a bit as he loaded a box of preserves into his old Chevy truck.  Bushel baskets and wooden boxes filled with fresh cucumbers, pole beans, butter beans, onions, and even peaches made for a complete load.  It had been a lot for an old man to plant and a lot for him to harvest, but as he pushed the box of preserves across the bed of the truck he was proud.

A 1953 Chevrolet 3100 Pickup
     "Not bad for a retired farmer," he thought to himself.  But his thought was interrupted when the side door to the garage door jerked open and his wife stormed in.
     "Jebediah Ruben Simmons, you stubborn old mule," Myra Simmons said indignantly. "You need to listen to me!"
     "Woman," the old farmer replied. "I hear you."
     "You don't need to go into town.  You can stay right here on this farm."
     "Myra, if I don't go into town, people in town don't get to eat."
     "If you believe the news, you know the people in town are doing a pretty good job of eating each other."
     "You know that's just the worst video they can find.  There's good people in town, there's families,  there's refugees, and they need food."
     "Jeb," his wife said pointing at the classic Mustang sitting next to his truck.  "You know exactly what kind of people have come down here from Atlanta."
     "Darling, you know I can deal with any trouble that comes my way."
     "I don't know that and you don't know that.  You're too damn old for this stuff."
     "I'm going," Jeb replied.  "My grandfather told stories of using corncobs for toilet paper and I'm not fixing to start down that path.  We need stuff too."
     "It's too dangerous!"
     "It's not too dangerous," Jeb answered. "I'm only going up to Tifton!"
     "Good, then I'm coming with you!" Myra retorted before storming out.  Speechless, the old farmer knew he had been outmaneuvered.
     "Damn it," Jeb muttered as he pulled on his Bulldog cap.
     Next, he strapped on his revolver, hopped in his truck, took a deep breath, and hit the garage door opener.  The '53 Chevy started right up and he eased her slowly out of the garage.  Jeb remembered when his kids had "stolen" his old truck, fixed it up a bit, and had it painted.  The deep eggplant color still looked good.  It still had the original 216-cubic-inch straight six, but that was all Jeb needed.  The truck rejuvenation had been the best birthday gift ever and it meant a lot.  He hoped his daughter Betty and her kids were alright out there.
     As Myra came out looking as beautiful as ever.  She had a small cooler in one hand and carried her .30-30 Marlin in the other.  She opened the passenger door, slid the rifle into the gun rack, and slid up onto the bench seat.
     "What's for lunch," Jeb asked.
     "Two sandwiches, potato salad, two Coca-Colas, and two boxes of ammunition."
     "That sounds good to me."

[To hit the road with Jeb and Myra, read the next installment "The Road Trip - Part 2." If you'd like to read a previous Chronicle of Jeb, check out my short story "Something You Oughta Know."]

Thursday, April 16, 2020

Zombie Flash Fiction: The Beautiful and the Dead

     "Run.  Run," Gina said opening the shop door. "Get on in here girl!"
     "Oh, I'm so glad you're open," Tanya said slamming the door of her Lexus.  She trotted nervously in from the parking lot with her revolver in one hand and a small totebag in the other.
     "We ladies need our hair fixed up," Gina said knowingly.
     "You got that right,"  Tanya said nodding her head.  "My do needs to be done!"
      "How are you and the family?" Gina asked.
Photo by Goldmund100 / CC BY-SA
(https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)
      "Good, good," Tanya replied adding in a low voice. "You know my husband and my boy managed to break into the drugstore down the road."
      "Oh they did," Gina said.  "How'd they manage that?"
       "Through the roof with a chainsaw," Tanya said proudly.  "Once they were in, they had the whole place to themselves."
       "Ooooh, but girl, didn't the noise of that saw bring them in from miles around?"



       "Hell yeah," Tanya exclaimed.  "The hubs and little Johnny barely got back to the truck.  Johnny almost got bit, but he's real good with a knife now."
       "Oh that's good.  Useful skill now."
       "So how's your mama doing with all this?"
       "Oh she's real worried about  her sugars and running out of her medications," Gina said.  "And it's not like she can go to the doctor now."
       "You said the doctors got her on Metformin right?"
        "Oh yeah, she takes Metformin and she was taking Gly, Glybur-something, but we don't have enough food for her to be messing with that anymore."
        "I thought you said she was on Metformin so I got you some," Tanya said with a smile.  "That totebag is for you."
        "Oh thank you honey," Gina exclaimed giving Tanya a big smile. "And look you got us some canned food too."
        "I'll hook you up," Tanya said proudly.  "But, I'm kind of mad at my hubs.  He was in that store for an hour and he didn't bring me any makeup, lotion, or anything."
        "Not even a lipstick?"
        "They didn't even get soap."
         "Men," Gina said shaking her head.  "They got no sense of priorities."
         "They were in a whole drugstore full of makeup and aisles of product."
          "You and me should go," Gina said.  "When the dead walk, I can make do with drugstore product."
           "We could go through the store with a more refined eye.  I know I've got a list."
           "Alright,  we've got a ladder and a van in back.  We'll go in a little bit."
           "We'll have fun!"
           "First though," Gina said getting back to business, "what are we going to do with this hair?"
           "Well, these bangs are getting on my last damn nerve . . ."

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Zombie Haiku: Hiding

Spring in Atlanta
Chirping birds and green trees
inside we all hide




Tuesday, April 14, 2020

Zombie Cinquain Poem: Stop Eating!


Watch it!
Lay off the food!
No more cookies or snacks!
Outside is nothing but danger
and dead!


Photo by Carl Campbell / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)



Zombie Complex: Entertainment for Today's World!

With millions of people around the world filing for unemployment and uncertain about their economic futures, it's a challenging time to sell anything--especially a book.  But, in a world where we literally can't go out and enjoy normal life in our neighborhoods, books like Zombie Complex are one of the best available forms of entertainment.  It's only 99 cents to read on your Kindle, Kindle App (for your phone or tablet) or on your PC via Kindle Anywhere.  That's cheaper than the movies you can't go to.  It's also cheaper than ordering a pay-per-view or

It might seem counter-intuitive to read a book about a Zombie Apocalypse during a global pandemic, but you'll find many parallels between the world depicted in the novel and the world depicted on our evening news.  In a grim world, I think you'll find this read enjoyable. Escape the pandemic for awhile, read about a zombie apocalypse instead.




Sunday, April 12, 2020

Zombie Cinquain: Taking Chances


Inside
with no TV,
no electricity,
I'll take my chances out with
Zombies

Photo by Andrew Mercer (www.baldwhiteguy.co.nz) / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)

Friday, April 10, 2020

Zombie Science: What are Zombies scared of?

According to legend and  most zombie fiction, zombies aren't scared of anything.  Zombies don't have any conscience and they just follow some primal drive to feed.  However, in an era where voodoo zombies have been replaced by diseased zombies, anything can happen.

Image by Mikael Häggström, M.D. - Author info - Reusing images Written informed consent was obtained from the individual, including online publication. / CC0


As a writer, I've been fascinated by what--if anything--goes on in the brains of zombies.  There's electricity crossing synapses and there's primitive movement?  What else is there?  Are there thoughts and are there memories?  If there is any consciousness at all, zombies might fear everything they are driven to do as zombies.  Can you imagine being conscious that you are about to kill and eat someone and not having any control over it?  Can you imagine knowing that you are dead? 

The quest for scientific knowledge about zombies is what fueled my short story, "Zombie Cage."  In this story, a team of scientists and security personnel land directly in the center of a zombie horde with a mission to gather everything they can about zombies.  You'll be shocked and amazed at what they learn. 

Thursday, April 9, 2020

Zombie Haiku - Alive Inside


Dead but yet walking
A faint flicker in my eyes
still alive inside?


A Zombie Fan Adds Levity to the Corona Crisis


Wednesday, April 8, 2020

Worried about the Corona Virus?

There is a lot of despair out in the land today.  Getting groceries and basic supplies into the house is a major chore.  Some folks have been without essential paper products for a long time.  It seems like everyone has the Corona Virus blues.  But, there is something that you should know.

You are here because your ancestors survived events like--

  • Communism
  • Escaping from Vietnam
  • The Vietnam War
  • The Korean War
  • The Cold War
  • World War 2
  • Jim Crow Era
  • The Dust Bowl
  • The Great Depression
  • The Spanish Flu
  • World War 1
  • The Spanish-America War
  • European Imperialism
  • Labor Riots
  • The Irish Potato Famine
  • The Indian Wars
  • The Reconstruction
  • The American Civil War
  • Slavery
  • The War of 1812
  • The Napoleonic Wars
  • The American Revolution
  • The Jamestown Massacre
  • Conquistadors
  • The Spanish Inquisition
  • The Bubonic Plague
  • The Dark Ages
  • Vikings
  • Atilla the Hun
  • Xerxes
  • Alexander the Great
And, that's just the stuff I can think of from my white, European ancestor, middle class, perspective.  Other countries and continents have had their own struggles, their own battles, and their own calamities that are no less important.  But, the point is that humanity is a hardy species.  Everyone who came before you survived long enough to put you on this planet.  Most of your ancestors managed without toilet paper and many couldn't get a grocery delivery window.  Keep calm.  Keep a positive mental attitude.  Make smart decisions.  Stay socially isolated.  But, most importantly know this -

We've got this!  You've got this!





Monday, April 6, 2020

Shaving and the Beard of the Apocalypse

As a writer, I am learning all the time.  This Covid-19 corona virus shelter in place order is giving us all a glimpse of life in an emergency and what the beginning stages of a zombie apocalypse might look like.  This morning I took stock of my "quarantine beard" and decided that it must go.  My wife has been bugging me about it for days.  But, when I look into my bathroom drawer of shaving supplies, I find that I am down to just one extra blade for my best beard busting razor--my venerable Gillette Mach 3 Turbo.  Now, I truly understand Rick's beard on The Walking Dead.

Rick from The Walking Dead (sporting a Zombie Apocalypse Beard) 
The struggle is real.  But, we will carry on.  Even during this corona virus pandemic panic, we will find ways to shave.  Civilization will be preserved and rebuilt.

Saturday, April 4, 2020

Zombie Flash Fiction: Forever Walking

Sleepless.  Tired.  Wired.  Hungry. Parched.  We pressed onward. Just climb the ridge. Just follow the road.  Walking west forever. My shoes were almost worn out.  I hadn’t showered.  I didn’t care.  I didn’t even want to remember eating.  My thoughts were a jumble of memories of the world that used to be.  The news reports of the spreading virus were a fading blur.  Ahead was the army. Soldiers.  Relief.  Shock!  Why shoot at us?


Photo by Rodrigo Fernández / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)



Old Survival Wisdom in times of Covid 19

In these trying times of COVID-19, it may be helpful to draw some wisdom from the old U.S. Army Survival, Evasion, and Escape Manual (FM 21-76). While this manual was meant to help soldiers and airmen trapped behind enemy lines, some wisdom is always helpful.

S – Size up the Situation (Assess your Finances, Food, Supplies, Opportunities. Do you need to cut back? Do you need to make a list of items to procure? What can you do without? Do you need to get a temporary job fetching groceries to keep a roof over your head?)

U – Undue Haste Makes Waste and Use Your Senses (Don't waste scarce resources like paper towels Don't by 60 rolls of toilet paper.)

R – Remember Where You Are (If you live in a free western Democracy with modern medicine, you are blessed. For most of us, society will still function and we will persevere.)

V – Vanquish Fear and Panic (Worry doesn't help. Cut back on the news. You're probably not an epidemiologist or a politician. You just need to know actions you can take. Find out if you need to stay inside, wash your hands, and wear a mask outside. Worry and stress can debilitate you and make you useless to your family when they need you.)

I – Improvise (Make you own masks, TP alternatives, etc. Lots of smart people are finding ways to protect themselves and their families.)

V – Value Life (These times will pass. Don't act like there is no tomorrow. There is a tomorrow and you need to do your best to be in it. Every life is precious including your life and the lives of your neighbors and countrymen. Don't get the virus. Don't spread the virus.)

A – Act like the Natives (This is really about blending in and making use of the resources locals have at hand when you are behind enemy lines. If the natives include Florida Man or other dumb ass party people, don't act like them. Keep your social distance and be smart.)

L – Learn Basic Skills or Live by Your Wits (What is this stove for anyway? Do I really need to join 150 stress out people in a Warehouse Store? When this is done, you'll likely know how to cook and you'll know how to stretch a dollar. Use your brain. Stay in the fight.)

Just stay calm.  Think.  Make moves that are rational and planned.  You can do this!

Friday, April 3, 2020

Zombie Limerick: The Hazards of Working from Home


There once was a guy who worked from home,

because his employer warned that zombies might roam.
He showed up on Skype
Declared it was hype
Until one little zombie bite changed his chromosome.



Graphic by Thomas Splettstoesser / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)

Zombie Cinquain Poem: The Quiet

No planes No trains or trucks No cars or highway roar Just the still of night, moans, screams, and gunshots! For you writers and poets out t...